"Good gracious!" cried Iris irrelevantly; "I had not even thought of
Robinson Crusoe until this moment. Isn't it odd? I--we--"

She pulled herself up short, firmly resolved not to blush. Without
flinching she challenged him to complete her sentence. He dared not do
it. He could not be mean enough to take advantage of her slip.

Instantly he helped her embarrassment. "I hope the parallel will not
hold good," he said. "In any event, you, Miss Deane, fill a part less
familiar in fiction."

The phrase was neat. It meant much or little, as fancy dictated. Iris
at first felt profoundly grateful for his tact. Thinking the words over
at leisure she became hot and very angry.

They worked in silence for another hour. The sun was nearing the
zenith. They were distressed with the increasing heat of the day. Jenks
secured a ham and some biscuits, some pieces of driftwood and the
binoculars, and invited Miss Deane to accompany him to the grove. She
obeyed without a word, though she wondered how he proposed to light a
fire. To contribute something towards the expected feast she picked up
a dish-cover and a bottle of champagne.

The sailor eyed the concluding item with disfavor. "Not whilst the sun
is up." he said. "In the evening, yes."

"It was for you," explained Iris, coldly. "I do not drink wine."

"You must break the pledge whilst you are here, Miss Deane. It is often
very cold at night in this latitude. A chill would mean fever and